


your smile on my mind

by asael



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pet Store, F/F, Fluff, mentioned dimitri/claude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: At the local pet store, Hilda meets the cutest girl she's ever seen. The only problem is that she doesn't have a single pet. But it's fine - Marianne doesn't need to know that.Written for Marihilda Week, day 4, 'modern AU'.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 20
Kudos: 212





	your smile on my mind

Hilda pushed open the door of Dorte’s Pet Supply, sighing. She really didn’t think it was fair that _she_ was the one going to get stuff. Sure, Claude might be the one taking care of the kitten right now, making sure it was warm and dry and keeping it out of trouble, but he had a boyfriend. That boyfriend should be _here_ , _now_ , running errands. Instead of at work or whatever, meaning Hilda was the one stuck with the grunt work.

And how was she supposed to know what a kitten needed? Holst had a dog when they were kids, but that was totally different, and anyway she’d never even taken it for a walk.

She marched up to the counter, a strand of hair already twisted around her finger, ready to bat her eyes and make whatever silly teenager was behind the counter do it all for her.

Then they turned from where they’d been arranging a display of pamphlets about ID chips, and - 

Hilda stared.

It was just for a second. She didn’t usually lose her composure like that. But the person behind the counter was decidedly not the pimply teen she’d expected. Instead, it was a girl - a beautiful girl. All pale skin and big eyes, her blue hair neatly tied up in braids. She blinked at Hilda, and then flushed, and the spread of pink along her cheekbones was impossibly endearing.

“Oh!” she said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Hilda had been thrown off her game, sure, but she was no amateur. She took a breath, regained her composure, and slid a smile on her face. “Hey, no worries! Maybe you could help me out? There’s this kitten my friend and I found, and I need to get some stuff for it… like, food maybe? A litter box?”

“A lost kitten?” The girl blinked at her, an expression of concern passing over her face. “Oh, that’s terrible. You should take it to a vet as soon as you can, make sure it’s old enough to be away from its mother. I have a few cards here -”

She pulled a drawer out from beneath the desk, rummaging through, taking out a handful of cards. Before Hilda realized it, they were being pressed into her hands, and she juggled them for a moment before managing to get her purse open and drop them in. She’d dump these all out on Claude’s coffee table later and let him figure it out - this kitten was his problem.

“Sure, thanks,” she said. “But for now, what kind of stuff do I need?”

“Oh!” the girl said again. Her embarrassed gasp was impossibly cute, and Hilda felt herself melting despite her best efforts. “Yes, of course. Let me show you.” 

She led Hilda out into the store, picking up a basket. “You don’t have anything, right? We should start at the beginning?”

“Yeah,” Hilda said, feeling a sense of relief. The truth is, she really didn’t know what a kitten might need. At least this girl - _Marianne_ , she read, squinting just a little to read her nametag - seemed to have some idea of what might be necessary.

“Then you’ll need a lot,” Marianne said, almost as if she were apologizing for it. 

“I figured,” Hilda said with a theatrical sigh. “Okay, okay. Let’s get started, then.”

And Marianne led her through the pet store, loading her up with everything someone might need for a new kitten. It was clear Marianne knew what she was doing - she touched every base, even suggested some things that weren’t entirely necessary, like a pad to put under the litter box. But at the same time, she seemed… uncertain. Unsteady, even.

Lifting a litter box, she managed to pick up three, and when she realized she stood up straight in surprise and dropped them, scattering them all over the floor. Hilda was the one who picked them up and put them back on their stack.

When she was putting cans of kitten food in the cart, she turned a little too quickly and nearly toppled a whole shelf. Again, it was Hilda who caught it, Hilda who juggled everything carefully and set it back into place.

And then at the end, when they were picking out toys - not strictly necessary, but who could say no to toys? - Marianne fumbled the basket she was holding and spilled it out over the whole aisle.

“Oh, _no_ ,” she said, her cheeks flushed that pretty pink that Hilda found much too endearing. “I’m so sorry! We’re almost done here, let me get you checked out and I’ll take care of this later.”

But Hilda - contrary to her nature, to her plans, to anything about her life up to this point - found herself insisting on being allowed to help. They picked up the toys together, arranged the aisle properly together, and then Marianne checked her out at the counter with a sweet, grateful smile.

“Um,” she said, as Hilda lifted her many bags, “come back in and let me know how your kitten is doing, okay?”

Hilda had not said it was her kitten. In fact, she had never intended to keep it - Claude seemed intent on that, and Dimitri was a pushover, so there was no doubt he’d say yes.

But she considered things, and she looked at Marianne, so sweet and smiling behind the counter.

“I will,” she said with a smile of her own.

Maybe it would be all right if she did one or two favors for Claude. Occasionally.

***

It was surprisingly easy to find excuses to come to the pet store. Claude’s kitten - dubbed ‘Barbarossa’ for some ridiculous reason, though Claude tended to call it names like ‘naughty paws’ and ‘sweetheart’ when he thought no one was listening - needed all kinds of things. More food, a collar, a new collar when that one got lost, more kitty litter - the demands were endless.

And Hilda would sigh theatrically, roll her eyes, and say, “Fine, I’ll do it this time, but you owe me!”

Then she’d make her way to the pet store. Invariably, she’d ask Marianne for help, even if she was getting something she’d already gotten before, something she needed no help finding. And almost as invariably, she ended up helping _Marianne_ with something, too. A new display that needed organizing, something dropped that needed to be picked up. Once, Hilda even stocked a few shelves because Marianne looked especially tired that day.

It was all incredibly uncharacteristic. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, except - well.

After Hilda helped her out, Marianne always smiled so sweetly, so sincerely. Hilda would think about that smile as she walked back to Claude’s apartment, bags in hand. She’d think about it when she got annoyed or upset, and somehow it always managed to calm her.

They talked, too, when Hilda was there. She learned that Dorte’s Pet Supply actually belonged to Marianne, that she had a few other employees but that she liked working the counter more than most of the back-room jobs. She learned that Marianne had two dogs, both mutts, one she’d adopted from the pound and one she’d taken in after she found it wandering lost. She’d searched for the owner, but no one ever turned up.

She didn’t sell pets at the store, but had an arrangement with a local adoption service. They came in regularly with dogs, cats, and even some other animals, and Marianne would throw big adoption events. (Hilda stumbled on one accidentally while picking up some kitten food and nearly went home with a rabbit before she found some self control.)

She’d had what she delicately put as ‘a dark period’ in her life when she was in school, and part of the reason she’d made it through was by volunteering at her local shelter. After that, she’d wanted nothing more than to help give animals happy lives, and that was why she was so careful about what she stocked, so conscientious about steering people to the right products.

She had been adopted as a child, and her adoptive father was rich and reclusive - he showed his love by funding her business until it could run on its own. Marianne seemed grateful to him, but Hilda didn’t think they were close.

In return, she found herself sharing stories, too: growing up with Holst, who’d always been such a golden boy. Meeting her best friend Claude in college, and all the ridiculous things they’d gotten up to. How she was bored to death with her day job at a marketing firm, and how she spent her weekends designing jewelry and accessories and selling them on Etsy.

Marianne had been delighted by that, and the way her eyes lit up had Hilda instantly inspired. She had just the right idea for something Marianne could put in her hair, a barette with tiny jewels that would sparkle like stars.

She was thinking about it the next day, deep in the beginning stages of her design process, when she realized the one thing she hadn’t accounted for in all of this.

Claude.

Claude and his infernal curiosity, Claude and his overactive brain, Claude and his always ridiculous schemes.

Claude, who sauntered up to her table at their regular coffee shop and gently set a bag full of cat toys down on it.

Hilda blinked at the bag.

He then set down his coffee and followed it with himself, taking a seat and leaning forward in his chair with the most infuriating grin.

“So,” he said.

For about half a second, Hilda considered playing it cool. Maybe this was about something else entirely. Maybe even if it wasn’t she could throw Claude off her trail. Maybe she could upend the whole table and flee into the street, never to be seen again.

But she knew that grin. There was no way out of this. Even changing her name and moving three states away was unlikely to deter Claude when he had something on his mind.

“So,” she said, and involuntarily glanced at the bag. The design on it was very familiar.

“Marianne seems nice,” Claude said innocently. He took a sip of coffee and waited for her to break. God, he was annoying.

“Wow, she was even nice to you? She must be a saint,” Hilda said, smiling at Claude without an ounce of sincerity.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily,” Claude said. He leaned back in his chair now, self-satisfied. “There I was at home, feeding Barbarossa his breakfast, when I thought to myself ‘hmm, Hilda’s sure been helpful lately’. Then I realized you’d been _so_ helpful I hadn’t even stepped foot in Dorte’s myself, even though it’s just around the corner.”

“Gosh,” said Hilda, turning the sweetness in her smile up a notch, “it’s so nice that you’re finally realizing what a helpful and great friend I am.”

“And I figured,” Claude said, continuing as if she’d said nothing, “that I might want to head down there myself. Barbarossa could use a few new toys.” That was a lie, Hilda knew, that kitten was swimming in toys. Mostly ones she’d bought. “And can you imagine what I found?”

“Someone who might actually put up with you?” Hilda said. Some days, she seriously wondered why Claude was her best friend.

“That’s Dimitri’s job. No, I found a gorgeous girl who was more than happy to help me find just the right toy. Someone kind and careful, someone my very own best friend has never mentioned once, even though I know she’s been in that store plenty of times.” Claude sipped his coffee now that he’d finished his ridiculously obvious story, raising an eyebrow. “And _that_ got me curious.”

“Ugh,” Hilda sighed, frowning at him. “I didn’t say anything about her because I knew you’d try to meddle if I did. I don’t need your help.”

“Oh? So you’re going to ask her out, then?”

Hilda hesitated. She’d thought about it, of course. She wanted to, and it was a little uncharacteristic of her to hesitate - except that she really liked Marianne, and thought it would be too easy to get attached. That, and - 

“Well… I might have told her a tiny little lie the first time we met,” she said. “It wasn’t even a lie! Just a slight omission of the truth, that’s all.”

“What was it?” Claude said, and then she saw his eyes brighten as he realized. He was too damn smart. “She thinks you came in to get stuff for your own cat.”

Hilda sighed and chose not to give Claude the satisfaction of saying he was right. They both knew he was, anyway.

“So, what, you think you’ll ask her out, have an amazing date, sweep her off her feet, and then the two of you will get back to your apartment, she’ll look around and say - oh my god, you don’t even have a cat! You stalker!”

Hilda rolled her eyes. This was so embarrassing, but it would be pointless to lie to Claude. “I mean, yeah. Basically.”

Claude started laughing, and didn’t stop for much longer than was appropriate. Hilda scowled at him.

“I didn’t think she’d turn out to be so sweet! I thought it would just be a fun excuse to flirt with a pretty girl sometimes while I was picking up stuff for you. I didn’t think -” She cut herself off, looking down at her cup of coffee, barely touched.

When Claude spoke again, his voice was more gentle, though it still held traces of laughter. “You’re too used to getting people wrapped around your finger. You didn’t think she’d do the opposite.”

Hilda sighed again. God, she was ridiculous.

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Claude said, “she seems like the understanding type. And it’s not like it was a big thing. Just tell her the truth and ask her out and see how it goes.”

“It’s been _months_ ,” Hilda said. “I mean, it was a dumb little lie, but letting it go on for this long? She’ll definitely think I’m creepy.”

“Or she’ll think it’s sweet,” Claude countered. “Besides, it’s not like you made the excuse up out of nowhere. You really were buying stuff for a cat.” He watched her, his keen eyes a little too observant. “Come on, Hilda. Remember what you told me that night you got so mad because I wouldn’t ask Dimitri out?”

Hilda remembered vividly, and hated that Claude was using it against her now. Mostly, she hated it because he was right. “I told you not to make up stupid reasons to avoid being happy.”

Fuck. He was right. She liked Marianne, _really_ liked her. The visits to the pet store were usually the highlight of her week. Everything Hilda learned about Marianne made Hilda like her more. The last time she’d been there, Hilda had said something silly, and Marianne laughed, and all Hilda could think about was kissing her.

And then she’d thought about all her past relationships, how they’d failed because she hadn’t really been that into them, she’d just liked how they made her feel or what they could do for her. And she’d gotten all in her head about it, about how this was different, about how she didn’t know how to be with someone she really, genuinely liked, someone she wanted to do things for - 

And so she’d talked herself out of asking Marianne out, talked herself out of making any kind of move.

Stupid Claude. They might have been friends for years, but that didn’t give him the right to see through her so easily.

“Ugh,” said Hilda, “ _fine_. I know you won’t leave me alone until I do something about this.”

“Worse,” Claude said with a grin. “I’ve already come up with five different ways to get you two together. The first one involves an escaped hamster and a crying child. You’re going to have to ask her out yourself - otherwise I’ll be forced to put my schemes into action.”

That left Hilda with absolutely no choice.

***

The next day, she went to the pet store.

Pushing open the door, Hilda found herself feeling ridiculously nervous. That wasn’t normal at all - she usually had confidence to spare. Too _much_ confidence, some had said, though only because they were jealous. But this was different.

Marianne was at the counter, restocking a display of dog tags. She looked up, and her smile when she saw Hilda was enough to outshine the sun.

Hilda found herself smiling in return. How could she not?

She walked up to the counter, took a breath. “Hey,” she said. “Um, I have something to tell you.”

Marianne’s smile faded. She looked concerned, even worried - clearly the words _I have something to tell you_ were not in any way reassuring or comforting. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, exactly…” Hilda sighed. She’d thought of a million ways to say it, but nothing sounded anything less than ridiculous. The only way out was through, though, unless she wanted to let Claude try to pull off whatever ridiculous plan he’d come up with. “I just, um… I actually don’t have a cat.”

Marianne blinked at her, confused. Hilda couldn’t blame her. She’d dropped so much money on food and litter and stupid cat toys over the past few weeks. Claude’s cat was living a life of luxury. “You don’t?”

“I got all of that stuff for my friend’s cat. I just… kind of left that part out.” Hilda shrugged, pasting a smile on her face. “I know it seems kind of weird.”

“I don’t know about weird,” Marianne said carefully, because she was probably the sweetest human being on earth, “I just don’t know why you would. Do you - have another pet?” She blinked those big brown eyes, clearly trying hard to understand.

“I don’t have any pets,” Hilda said. She sighed. Might as well just say it. “I was using my friend’s cat as an excuse to come see you.”

“You - what?” Marianne stared. Then, suddenly, she flushed a pretty pink, so visible against her pale skin. She looked at Hilda as if she was sure she’d heard wrong. “To… to come see me?”

“I mean, yeah,” Hilda said. “That’s not the weird part. Anyone with half a brain would want to make up reasons to come see you.” Maybe it was Marianne’s blush, maybe it was the way her perfect lips opened into a little ‘o’ of surprise, maybe it was just the freedom of having come clean. Whatever it was, Hilda felt a sudden rush of confidence.

“I - I don’t know about that,” Marianne said, stammering just a little, her blush deepening. “I guess, um. Well. I’m really flattered?” She said it like a question, like she wasn’t sure if she was, and Hilda had to resist the urge to say _you should be!_ because Marianne already seemed overwhelmed.

“I figured I should come clean,” Hilda said, as if it had been her decision to do so and not the result of Claude’s meddling. For a moment she considered leaving it there, saying nothing else, leaving Marianne with the truth and walking away. Marianne probably thought she was super weird now, and even if she was flattered, that didn’t mean she was interested. All the time they’d spend talking, the smiles they’d shared, the laughter - it didn’t mean anything, except that Marianne was a good person, and kind, and friendly.

_Stop making up stupid reasons to avoid being happy._

But it might mean something, and she’d never know unless she tried.

So Hilda took a deep breath, and she smiled, and she said, “I really like you, Marianne. Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Oh,” Marianne said, and her answer came so quickly that Hilda wasn’t sure she’d even stopped to breathe. “ _Yes._ ”

Hilda laughed, her smile growing wide and true, and she reached out to take Marianne’s hand. Marianne let her, cheeks aglow, a smile slipping onto her face as well. It felt so easy, so perfect.

She couldn't believe she hadn't done this ages ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Claude's cat is the fattest and most spoiled creature in existence. Then, three months into dating Marianne, Hilda breaks and adopts a bunny, and it's all downhill from there.


End file.
